


A Sunday Kind Of Love

by rosehathaway



Series: Linstead [6]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Breakfast, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Lazy Mornings, Linstead, Morning Sex, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:05:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8898586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehathaway/pseuds/rosehathaway
Summary: Erin and Jay wake up together on a Sunday morning. Smut ensues, followed by the domestic bliss and some real conversation about none other than Brianna.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set about a week after 3.17, during Jay’s off week. 
> 
> Based on two tumblr prompts: Sunday morning smut + Erin asking Jay about the comment Brianna's ex made, about her wanting to sleep with Jay. Song title inspired by a song by Etta James.

It's one of the few Sunday's they have off. Sure, they get an occasional weekend here and then, where the caseload is low and they’re all caught up on paperwork, but it doesn’t happen often. Criminals don’t rest, even on a Sunday.

But this one is calm and as peaceful as it can be, after the events of past week, when Jay lost a friend and was almost shot himself. It has been a tough couple of days to say the least.

For the first time in a while, Erin is the first one to wake up. She listens to the slow thumping of rain on glass, and the distant noise of traffic making its way through an open window. She hears sirens go by, recognizing them as the fire department. That stirs Jay out of the deep slumber, and she revels in watching him for those last couple of seconds before he wakes up. His eyes meet hers, watching her as she props herself on her elbow and watches him. He smiles at her and she smiles back. She stretches, settling herself next to him, while she lets the feeling of not having to do anything, or go anywhere, take over.

“Hi,” she murmurs and he replies with a lazy kiss, just lips brushing lips. His move slowly over hers as a way of greeting someone you wake up next to, as a habit. He moves to go to the bathroom, and she instantly misses his presence in bed. She’s not ashamed to admit that this has become a sort of routine for them on Sundays off. At this point, not even coffee is enough to tempt her out of the still warm bed.

He comes back to bed and reaches for his t-shirt, his expression a bit more serious now, but she sees his intention and snatches it first. She shakes her head as a way of saying _no_ , and he chuckles lightly. This sort of laughter feels like music to her ears, after the breakdown she has witnessed in the locker room just last week.

“Give me my shirt.”

“Come and get it,” she smirks, but the smirk soon disappears from her lips as he pins her down to bed, his face just inches from hers. She pauses and waits for his reaction. His lips touch hers again, but this time it’s not lazy; it’s deep, torturous. The kind of kiss that’s meant to pleasure. And it does.

Her hand releases his shirt, and her arms wrap around his torso, bringing him closer. His hands slide under the fabric of an old shirt she wears to sleep, tracing fingers up the warm skin underneath. Her legs wrap around his waist, and she grinds herself against his growing erection, making him groan. She feels the muscles on his back tense at that, and enjoys knowing she has the power to do that. Lowering his head, he glides his lips over her shoulder, down the line of her throat. His teeth graze her skin gently at the point of her pulse.

This time it’s slow, quiet and achingly tender. It touches her in places she didn’t know she could be touched. Doesn’t know if she wants to be. But he needs this; he needs her. So she gives herself to him.

He pulls her shirt up and glides his lips over the newly exposed flesh, making her sigh in pleasure, then watches her eyes before she closes them. The way the morning light plays in them makes his heart ache, but in a good way.

His lips roam the softness of her skin, making her curl her toes into the mattress, her back arching again him, to give him better access. She’s burning up from the inside out, and she only wants more; more of his hands; more of his mouth. They roll on the bed together to get rid of underwear and then they slide together naked, as flesh begins to slick from heat and passion.

He slips his hand between her thighs and she jerks, her breath catching. She’s already hot and wet. Her fingers clutch to him desperately as he begins his slow torturous strokes that make her breath short and harsh. Her body quakes under his skilled hands and she melts against him as she comes for the first time. She thinks she sees stars behind her closed eyelids. His mouth on hers swallows the throaty moan she lets out.

But he needs more. So much more.

She rolls them over, grinning at his sudden surprise. She presses kisses down his chest and before he realizes what she’s up to, she makes her way down. She looks up and he groans in anticipation. Her hands settle at his hips, gripping them as her nails dig in. Her lips form a smirk and her lips wrap around him.

He closes his eyes, a groan escaping him. She feels powerful. She feels in control. And it feels so intimate, how her lips swell, and how their eyes meet mere seconds before he comes with a wild groan.

She has never done that before she met Jay. It was one of their firsts. But the simple act of giving him pleasure without expecting anything in return was so appealing. It still is, especially, because he enjoys returning the favour.

Before she knows it, he has reversed their position again, grinning wickedly at her. She feels him at her entrance, and when he finally slides into her, she cries out. His pace doesn’t alter when he moves inside her. It’s shattering. It builds up arousal with a patience that’s close to brutal.

She can see nothing but his face, feel nothing but that glorious friction. Then comes the gradual, delicious, aching build of an orgasm. Her hands slide bonelessly off his shoulders, and for minutes there is only the sound of their breathing in the room. It takes a while until the world stops spinning and even then she feels her lips form a lazy smile.

“I don’t know about you,” she grins, “but I could sure use a shower.”

He shakes his head at her and follows her to the bathroom. “I might need a minute.”

* * *

 

After the shower, it’s time for breakfast.

Erin was surprised to find out, pretty soon into their relationship, that Jay actually knows how to cook. She was never at home in the kitchen. Sure, she learned to prepare enough things, so she didn’t starve, or eat Kraft’s Mac & Cheese seven days a week (though let’s be honest, she totally could). She knows how to grill a steak, which is entirely Voight’s fault, but that’s about it. She gazes at her boyfriend, preparing the ingredients for her favourite type of omelettes.

He really does make an astoundingly hot house husband, she thinks to herself, as she inhales the delicious smell of food. He’s pulled on some sweat pants that are resting pretty low on his hips and he conveniently forgot to pull on a shirt. Not that she minds. She’s thinking of putting up house rules, no shirts allowed. Ever. At least not for him.

Her mouth waters and she’s not sure whether it’s from the smell of food or the sight of him. He sets a plate in front of her and joins her while she stuffs her mouth with food. When he throws a weird look at her she shrugs unapologetically. “I had double exercise this morning.” Her grin makes him chuckle, and then he realizes, he’s actually pretty hungry as well.

“By the way, this is delicious.”

“I know, that’s why you keep me around,” he chuckles and she hits him playfully, which again ends up in a series of hot kisses.

When she manages to disentangle herself from him she cleans up. It’s only fair, because he cooked and besides, she wants them to be equal partners. She hums a familiar tune and it occurs to her that she hasn’t been this happy in a long time. There is just one thing that’s still on her mind. A thing she didn’t want to bring up the past week, because she wanted to give Jay his space and time. She still throws worried glances at him when she thinks he’s not looking, but he seems better now, so she might as well get it off her chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, anything.”

She focuses on the plate she’s scrubbing and hopes he didn’t see the slight blush spreading over her cheeks. “I was just wondering what the deal was with that boss of yours. Brianna? Her husband made some pretty snarky comments when we arrested him.”

He smirks, because oh, she’s so cute when she’s all jealous like that. “I was wondering when you were going to bring that up,” he teases. “Look, like I’ve already told Voight, there is nothing between me and her. She made a couple of passes, I made sure she knew I was with someone and that was it.”

She is surprised at the warmth that spreads over her when he says _with someone._

“Bottom point is, she was interested, and I was not,” he assures, coming to stand next to her behind the counter. His arms wrap around her hips, pulling her closer. “I’m with you. I don’t need anyone else.”

She nods. “Me too.” He presses a gentle kiss on her side when she frowns all of the sudden. “Wait, did you say Voight asked you about her?”

Jay silently curses himself and nods in response. “He asked me if I was sleeping with her.”

“Unbelievable,” she rants, and smacks him when he laughs at her.

“Hey!” He exclaims, throwing her tiny body over his shoulder.

“Jay! No, let me down,” she screams between giggles as he attempts to get them to the bedroom, but it just so happens they don’t make it past the couch. Not that he minds, he has some very fond memories of this couch.

And by the looks of it, he’s about to have more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> R&R? Please?


End file.
